XCOM - The longest night
by Cephalos
Summary: Under the night sky Stike One and Strike Four clash with alien menace threatening inhabitants of Earth. Based on Long War modification for XCOM Enemy Withing gameplay, with minor or major differences.


It was late evening - at least according to the clock. It's actually really hard to estimate time of the day when underground. Or the season of the year. But lack of windows and temperature set at 22 Celsius degrees couldn't change the fact, that it was the time some off duty XCOM soldiers gather in cantina for a drink. As always, men and women chatted, laughed, drank and played billards, as if they were not members of Earth's most deadly combat unit, but a group of friends who meet at friday evening to sum up tiring week in boring job. But it definitely wasn't just a boring job. They've risked their lives many times to make sure people of the world could have that boring job, without the fear of the horrors lurking in the stars above. It was a mission, an obligation, and an honour for them. But our story isn't about these people. At least partially. It's about their collegues who at this moment were deployed in the field, bringing death and destruction on those, who dare to lay their hands, or tentacles on innocent people.

Stars shun faintly, when shadowy figures were approaching old farm house. An ordinary man wouldn't see a thing, despite full moonlight, and would consider the movement for a flick of imagination, as everyone's mind plays games during night. But shadows weren't unreal. They moved without a doubt, and their target was clear.

\- Pierre, honey, could you silence the dog? Our daughter will wake up because of this damn animal - voice reached a man sitting on the couch and watching replay of yesterday's football game. The man called Pierre turned his head around with annoyance painted at his face. - Pierre? - voice reached him again - Yeah, yeah, I heard you, woman - man raised his voice. He tapped pause button on the remote controller and raised from the couch. Dog started to bark much louder and aggressive as Pierre opened the door and went outside. As soon as he closed the door the dog's barking suddenly cut. Silence stroke him hard. It was unnaturaly quiet. As if everything went silent, the dog, crickets, even wind clamed down. He shrugged his shoulders and walked to dog's cage.  
He didn't see a shadow that lunged in his direction.

\- Pierre? - voice belonged to about 30 years old attractive brunette - did you heard that? Pierre? That's not funny at all. - woman came out of the kitchen and her eyes rested on broken window in living room - Pierre, did you had anything to do with the broken window? Pierre? Pierre?  
Woman realised that her husband haven't answered her. She moved to the door and opened them wide to look around - Pierre? Pierre! Where are you? - she yelled not too loud. After all their daughter slept on the first floor, better not to wake the girl up. Suddenly sound of cracking glass behind her took her attention. She smiled to herself as she knew her husband was a joker since she met him in the college, and that was propably again one of his jokes. - Honey, that's not funny - she turned around to the window - you know I hate whe...  
Scream came out suddenly in the night.

\- Big Sky to Cental, ETA 5 minutes, escorts are leaving.  
\- Roger that Big Sky, keep us posted, and watch out for the air traffic.  
\- Thanks, Central. Big Sky out.

In the dimly lit cargo bay sat a group of figures clad in camouflaged armor. But even complete ignorant would see, that they are not normal soldiers you see in TV every day. Military just doesn't look like that. And they weren't military in full sense of that word. Each of these soldiers was selected from it's country military to represent it in XCOM intiative. A sectet initiative, to be clear. They were the best of the best our planet has to offer, and they have proven it many times.

Red light lighted above the ramp. The soldiers stood up and grabbed their weapons. Some of them had covered their faces in paint, similiar to these used by special forces around the world. Some of them had helmets which covered their heads entirely. One of the soldiers even had an impressive beard. And one of the soldiers had face that definitely belonged to a woman. A ordinary sight, as women served in XCOM as well. But the faces had one thing in common - concetration and self confidence painted on all of them. They were the best, and they knew that. God, may have mercy on the fools who would cross their path.

\- Big Sky to Stike One, 30 seconds to drop, get ready - pilot's calm voice rang out in subdermal implant planted in one's ear. Major Peter van Doorn never accustomed to that strange feeling as if somebody talked directly to his right ear. But that was the price of the success. The price all of XCOM troops had to pay to have at least basic communication on the battlefield. Still, it was inconceivably better then communication devices used by any other military in the world.  
\- Got it, Big Sky. Strike one deploying in thirty seconds - van Doorn answered. - Squad canal - he thought, as communication device in his ear changed channel immediately - all right, folks, get ready, we are going to have fun in next twenty seconds. Squad confirm - he ended and waited for his squad's response.  
\- Strike One-Two, report.  
\- Strike One-Three, report.  
\- Stike One-Four, report.  
\- Strike One-Five, report.  
\- Strike One-Six, report.  
\- Strike One-Seven, report.  
\- Strike One-Eight, all ready, sir.  
Van Doorn smiled. For him it was an honour and a pleasure to be a leader of such excellent squad, made only of highest class specialists. He fought and bleed with them since the beginning, and though they lost two squadmembers since then, they never have failed in any mission, no matter how hard it was. He peeked right, to look at his 2nd in command, lt. Cerny, codename Strike Four-One. He was hsi subordinate for the first five months of war, and later recommended him to officer rank. Cerny commanded Strike Four squad for a very long time and have proven to be cold-blooded professionalist, and stalwart company in drinking competitions. Cerny caught his sight and nodded lightly.  
Red light changed it's colour to green, as the landing ramp opened quickly with loud noise.  
-Go, go, go! - yelled van Doorn as his squad deployed to the field. As soon as he left Big Sky, pilot raised Skyranger and flew to next drop point, carrying Cerny's squad.

-Central, Strike One has been deployed, sir. Strike Four ETA one minute, deploying Cyclops, Big Sky out - Skyranger pilot's voice sounded from the speakers in Central. - Delta Section, Cyclops deployed and online, commander.  
Tall figure in XCOM central leaned over railing in Delta Section. - Bradford - authoritative deep voice of XCOM's Commander rang out in the room - get me that on screen, now.  
\- Cyclops online in three, two, one, now - counted down Bradford. The largest screen suddenly light up, showing small farmyard from almost 2500 meters above. Cyclops, small reconnaissance drone deployed by XCOM to monitor combat situations, started to flood Central with information. Different indicators showed Strike One spreading out and proceeding from the east towards the buildings. Other group of dots marked Strike Four being deployed at the same moment on the western side of the farmyard, next to forest-covered hills. This way both combat units cut off aliens' retreat to UFO that have landed three kilometers away, in this desolated region of Quebec. The farm was obvious alien target, as the nearest buildings were about 15 kilometers away. As if they never have learned a lesson from picking up desolated, obvious targets. Bradford turned to Commander - Sir, US airforce will begin airstrike on UFO in ten minutes. - Good, and tell them to plow the ground hard. I don't want that saucer to even think about flying away. - Commander looked at the main screen, where he could monitor actions of both strike teams on live. - Switch to thermal - ordered - and somebody get me a coffe.

\- Heinz, I need you on that hill on the double. Cover our approach. Lester, Vuko, go right side, Saadi and the rest, left. Don't take any chances, move people, move - Cerny's squad spread out in seconds after lieutant gave his orders. His eyes rested on the typical gravel road which led to the typical farmyard straight from the movies, 500 meters from his position. Squad started to move slowly towards their target. -What aliens look for here? - he thought loudly himself - what are they trying to achieve? - his considerations were suddenly interrupted by characteristic two clicks preciding other's squad leader message - Jaromir, we are 100 meters away of the building, waiting for you to hurry - van Doorn's light rebuke made Cerny smile. Commander wouldn't approve that light tone they used on the battlefield. Hell, he wants us to do take our job seriously, but sometimes he just should take a chill pill.

Such calm night- thought to himself corporal Dave Sanders, surveying the surroundings through his S.C.O.P.E. - shame it must end so badly for ayyys. They should've stayed off our planet, bloody bastards - Sanders' position was almost impossible to spot with bare eye. In truth, even for experienced spotter with advanced equipment he would be nigh-invisible. Painted with camo paints, his armor blended perfectly with trees and grass, and special net attached to it was covered with leaves and sticks. But that's not all he had used to hide his position - XCOM had such advanced stealth equipment that would make any sniper have wet dreams. One of them was a device called "Stalker's Skin" - well, at least that's how XCOM operatives called it. Dr. Vahlen came up with much less impressive name for it, but for XCOM personel it was a too damn long name to even bother to use it. Anyway, Stalker's Skin was a small pack that XCOM troops could attach to any surface. It spew elerium particles into air, making it curve light so anything inside the cloud was half visible. It didn't grant total invisibility like Stealth Armor or Stealth Device, but lasted much longer, especially if one affected by the cloud was not moving violently. Like Sanders now. Or any sniper, really.  
\- Strike One-One to Strike One-Four - van Doorn's calm voice sounded in his ear - Sanders, what do you see? - Sanders put his eye to scope and again surveyed the farmyard - All quiet, sir. Nothing's moving down there.  
\- Keep me posted, Dave. We are moving in.  
\- Roger that, sir. Got your back.  
Sanders checked his rifle one more time. Despite rising popularity of recently developed plasma weapons, he still used his well worn-out Mk 6 Gauss Long Rifle. For some of the new blood in XCOM ranks gauss weapons were as ancient as swords and shields, but for him, almost three year of service veteran, gauss rifle was a marvelous piece of gear. Deadly gear. Maybe a bit crude when it came to reloading. He checked again if the bipod had good support on the rocks, and callibrated the rifle's scope once again. Well, it actually callibrated itself. Thanks to Gunlink developed by R&D, he could "communicate" with his weapon by mind. At the beginning he was very skeptical, as any other conservative soldier would be. Precognition? Talking to weapon? Vahlen as always sounded as a crazy witch telling bullshit, but again, as always, she was right. The "Neural Gunlink", or just Gunlink, was sophisticated piece of technology. Technology? Hell, it was like magic, really. It's like having a second mind inside your head, showing you things you can't see, or calculate wind and humidity of the air in the seconds. It allowed you to predict exact enemy movement, or effects of hit. Alien shooting at you? No problem, Gunlink will calculate plasma bolt trajectory and best way to avoid it in thousands of second and you will start taking cover before enemy starts to pull the trigger. New month, new toys, as R&D guys used to say.

The girl cuddled her teddy-bear hid in her wardrobe, as the monsters rampaged through the house. One of the monsters even broke mom's porcelain tableware. Bad monsters. Mommy is going to be mad, and will accuse me of that. Mom never believed in monsters. These might not come from under her bed, but were real. Like the ones from under the bed, or the ones that hit the window in stormy nights.  
Girl tried not to cry, and patiently waited for the monsters to leave. Daddy said that's always the best way to get rid of them. He said they never look into wardrobe. They are too stupid for that, he said, and if they can't find you, they will leave. So just hide and wait.

So she waited.

Maria Volkovya caught movement in the darkness, next to the construction which seemed to be a doghouse. "Contact Red" she thought, as the implant transmitted the information through the rest of the squad and Central. She looked through her S.C.O.P.E. and the viewfinder's computer highlighted the hulking figure carrying rifle giving dim green light.  
\- Strike One-One to squad, engage, engage! - squad leader's voice rang out in her head, as she pulled the trigger. Her rifle gave short, characteristic electric sound before the elerium cell loaded the pulse beam and unloaded it in straight line. 200.000 short pulses of focused red light reached the targeted figure in a fraction of a second, lighting it on fire before superheated tissue exploded in rain of charred flesh and boiled blood. The target didn't even squeaked as it fell to the ground. Then the hell brake loose.

Firefight looked more like if somebody lit huge disco lamp then actual combat situation. Green, red and yellow lights brighted the farmyard when Strike One engaged enemy. Plasma bolts flew from both sides, vaporizing wood, steel and soil with same ease as flesh. Van Doorn glided to cover as aliens drowned his previous position in plasma fire.  
\- Fire in the hole! - somebody yelled, propably Peterson, and a second later small wood shed vaporized in green explosion. Van Doorn peeked out of his cover and surveyed situation quickly. His squad dropped two mutons, easily recognizable for their size and bulky armour, but four more hid between his position and the farmhouse, and now layed effective covering fire stopping Strike One's advance. Gunlink highlighted two hulking creatures hiding behind tractor parked next to barn, right to his position. Two mutons happily flooded yard with plasma fire, turning the well maintained driveway and flowerbed into sea of green fire. "Strike One-Four" thought van Doorn, as the communication device created personal channel to one of the squadmembers. - Scharf, two ayyys to the right, behind tractor, light 'em up!  
\- Jawohl! - thick german accent rang out in his ear, when cascade of bright red light spilled from the grain tank behind his position. Van Doorn peeked again. He smiled grimly seeing mutons cuddling their cover as the gunner flooded them with pulse fire. In the meantime somebody crawled up to van Doorn's position. - Sir! - van Doorn looked in the frightened face of his newest squadmember hurling rocket laucher on his back, corporal Yersimov. Two weeks ago he lost one of his veterans to the floater's suicidal charge, and he got Yersimov as a replacement. For the new guy it was the very first battle he took part in, so the look at his face was pretty self-explanatory.  
\- What's up, corporal? Tired already? We are just getting started here!  
\- I was expecting martini and barely dressed ladies! That's not the party I got invitation for, sir!  
Van Doorn laughed and nodded his head in direction of suppressed mutons. - Grab that rocket launcher and give'em some, son! - Yersimov's face was lit up, as fire consumed the house's roof, but van Doorn could see fierce smile on corporals face as he took the laucher from his back.

Explosion tore the night, as rocket hit the tractor. Two seconds later rain of blood and pieces of flesh started to drop from the sky. One of the pieces' hit Cerny in the helmet as he plunged out of his cover. However he didn't notice that, because new contact took all his attention.  
\- Thin Men! - he yelled as slim figures with inhuman grace spread around back of the house. Cerny hit the ground a fraction of second before well aimed plasma fire swept above his head.  
\- Strike Four, suppress them! - he ordered to his men. Thin men were known for their marksmanship and being general nuisance when it comes to trying to hit them. All operatives have learned to both respect and hate these human-shaped aliens for their aggresive behaviour and extreme mobility, paired with very lethal weaponry. "Attorneys" as some of troops have nicknamed them, were frustrating to fight with, compared to, let's say mutons. They prefered to fight from high ground and long range, and often tried to exploit flanks and mistakes in XCOM lines. Propably the most intelligent enemy operatives have ever faced.  
Cerny curled in his hole as another wave of plasma flew just inches above his head. Suddenly, two clicks rang up in his head.

-  
\- Jaromir, where the fuck are you? I need you to secure your side of the house! - yelled van Doorn, looking at his men trying to flush the last of the mutons out of his cover behind basement staircase. Alien got flooded with such amount of plamsa that it seemed that he won't live long.  
\- I have a case in court, Peter! Kinda busy here! Fuck! Corporal, keep them low! - Cerny yelled in comunications. Van Doorn cut off the contact.  
Finally the muton decided to peek out. Wrong decision, thought van Doorn to himself, as muton's headless and burning body fell to the ground.  
\- Nice one! - said Volkovya. Van Doorn had to admit that too.  
\- Get up people, clear the house, move! - He ordered and checked his ammo.

Finally thin men got what they deserved. Strike Four tossed few flashbangs at them to keep them nice and calm, and Cerny followed up with close range assault. Thin men generally don't like enemies in close, so they tried to move away from them, however in this case it was a very bad decision. According to Vahlen thin men have very sensible senses, so loud noise and bright light easily confuses them. And she was right in this case. It was actually funny to see them totter like completely drunk and defenseless alcoholic, at least for the first second. Strike Four gunned them down where they stood, without mercy.  
\- Regroup, move up, Valdez, cover us - he spew quick commands and moved toward the house.

\- Contact, we have large group of Xrays moving to your position from the south, Stike Four! Distance: 1.0 click. ETA six minutes. Maybe less.  
As always a lot of people gathered in Central to watch broadcast from the operation. Commander was suprised to see Vahlen amongst them, as she rarely left her labs. And it was like second time this year she showed up in Delta Section. His gaze fell on others in the room. Major Wiliamson was there, and 2nd Senior Engineer Xao. Well, Strikes One and Four have a significant audience, he thought when he looked back at the screen, as Cyclops poured grim news for the troops in the field.  
\- Stike Four, Strike One, you have mechs incoming, repeat, mechs incoming! - yelled Bradford to his microphone. Twelve targets, two of them are mechanical units. Moving fast. - Bradford, get me Cyclops on the UFO, now - ordered Commander - airstrike should begin soon.

-  
Cerny felt cold sweat soon after Central went quiet. Typical thursday in XCOM - he whispered and started to reposition his squad to face new threat.  
\- Strike Four-Five to Stike Four-One, Schneider here, I have contact, south, mile away, about dozen xrays, two Mechtoids incoming, sir.  
\- Strike Four, take positions south to the buildings. Strike One will cover our left flank. Heinz, focus your fire on mergers, we take care of the rest.  
\- Jawohl.  
Cerny gazed into the darkness of the night, in direction from where new contacts would soon emerge.

Capitan Victor Diaz loved his job. After all, what's better then flying with almost sound speed 12.000 feet high above the ground? He always have dreamed to fly like a bird, since he was a little child. This dreams, and hard work, finally made him a pilot he always wanted to be. Partialy responsible for that was his grandfather, who was a fighter pilot during World War II. His bedtime stories about dogfights and shooting down japanese planes were driving his mother mad, but for little boy they were almost sacred. And now, almost 30 years later he had a pleasure, no, a privilege, to sit behind rudders of A-10 Thunderbolt II, a flying cannon. He had flown almost nine hundred hours with it, and have flown above Iraq and Afghanistan, raining death and destruction from above. Strangely enough, he never liked destroying and killing, but stories of his grandfather had one more thing the old man wanted to pass onto his grandchild - the idea of the duty to his country. That's why Diaz became a fighter pilot.  
However this day was different. Alarm found him on combat patrol. These patrols were introduced by Pentagon almost four years ago. Reason behind them was unclear. Offical version claimed that they are meant to keep people ready if somebody would attack United States, but who in seven hells would attack Chicago? Or Detroit? Whom he would be strafing with all these rockets and chainguns? Terrorists? These patrols made sense over Pacific, or Atlantic, but not the US-Canadian border. US were still friends with Canada, and recent events have proven that to even most doubtful.  
Diaz turned his head left and right. His wingmates were with him, carrying rockets and bombs aswell. One A-10 can devastate entire block, but three of them are simply an overkill. Yet orders were clear. He had to cross US-Canada border, fly over lake Huron and head north into province of Quebec, to perform bombing mission there. Despite his best hopes, headquaters assured him that these aren't exercises. So there were bad guys in Quebec, and he had to make their night a very unpleasant experience.

\- Kitchen clear!  
\- Basement clear!  
Van Doorn knelt next to the body in the kitchen and he knew the woman was gone. Young and beautiful woman, maybe in her thirties, a bit like his wife. So much blood on the floor. Like the man outside. Probably her husband. Mutons literally tore him apart, sadistic savages, as they have proven multiple shook his head and stood up. Volkovya entered the room and briefly looked at the body. Her sight met van Doorn's. -Major? Sir? - van Doorn could easily hear concern in her voice - is everything ok?  
\- Yes, Maria, yes. I just... - staggered his hand around the room - I don't get it, why aliens came after this doesn't make any sense - His eyes focused on one of the many family pictures on a shelf. He picked closest one up. - The girl...  
\- Sir?  
\- There are supposed to be three people here. We found parents. Where is she? - He showed picture to Volkovya. - Go find her.  
\- Yes sir.  
Volkovya turned around and ran up on the first floor.  
*Click Click*  
\- Peter, Central says we have dozen contacts moving from the south. Two of those are mechs. I'm going to need your help. - Van Doorn sighed heavily. This day just won't end.  
\- I'm on my way. I won't let you have all the fun.

-  
Diaz couldn't believe his eyes. Despite pitch dark, the target below him was lit like a christmas tree, so he could see every and each detail, of this round, disc-shaped object, glowing in the night. He had heard rumors about "saucers" causing air catastrophes. Yet he hadn't believed them. Somebody have made mistake, and wanted impose the guilt on something else. "UFOs" were propably the stupidest of all excuses, yet people kept telling the stories.  
To this moment he would consider people telling these storiest to be too drunk or insane to even try to believe them. But still, before his own eyes, on the ground layed... well, the UFO. How he could describe that in different way? It definitely wasn't human-made object. He lived long and interesting life, yet still could distinguish science fiction from reality. He felt as a significant part of his life was a lie, or a truth he never believed.  
\- Do you see what I see, guys? - asked his mates.  
\- I'm not quite sure what I see, Vic. It's like a dream, really.  
\- It's a goddamn UFO! These things don't fucking exist! That's impossible!  
\- Apparently it is. If half of the tales people tell are truth... God, have mercy on us if they...  
Suddenly their conversation was interrupted by the headquaters.  
\- Tiger to Lion, you have permission to open fire. I repeat open fire. Shoot until you are completely empty. Confirm.  
\- Lion to Tiger, roger that. Shoot until empty. Proceeding. Over.  
Diaz turned his A-10 nose towards the UFO, and waited until viewfinder centered on the target. Last words of his wingmate rang loudly in his brain. God, have mercy on us if they...  
\- Our Father in heaven - he started as he pulled trigger - hallowed be your name...

Girl opened the wardrobe's door. Monsters went away, but apparently something was wrong. The house was on fire. She felt the temperature rising, as she tried to stand up. Acridic smoke made her choke, tears started to flow. Then in the doors of her room she saw a tall figure. She was out of breath to scream. Yet she tried.

-  
Van Doorn walked to man sitting next to shoulder high boulder - a reasonable piece of cover. Next to him layed a helmet and a plasma rifle.  
\- Taking a break, I see - started with conversational tone, as if nothing exciting happened.  
\- Gotta to enjoy every little moment, Major - Cerny picked up tons - after all we all have guests coming. It would be a shame if we couldn't welcome them with all our strenght.  
\- Yes, it would - said van Doorn looking at the horizon. Suddenly a cascade of fire lit up the sky, making night become a day for a short while.  
\- Airforce boys are having good time apparently - resumed van Doorn - I wonder if somebody told them what in the seven hells are they strafing.  
\- They wouldn't believe, Peter - said calmly Cerny as he stood up - Do you remember when they told us what will we be facing? I laughed them off.  
Van Doorn scratched his bald head with smile.  
\- So do I, Jaromir, so do I - he said, heading towards his squad.

-  
Dave Sanders looked again through the scope. He could easily spot sectoids moving towards the farmyard, as well mutons. Few meters behind them ground was pounded by walking servos that belonged to two Mechtoids. Sanders smiled, as he involuntarily recalled the lessons given to them by sergant Milos Kos. The self-titled XCOM's Master at Arms would give lessons to rookies in cantina over a mug of beer. Beer which they bought him, of course. Well, it wasn't a scam, that's truth, and Kos knew much more about fighting then all of the rookies combined back then. After few months Kos actually was promoted to newly created Master at Arms department, where he cooperated with Shen to came up with even more absurd but effective ways of dealing with enemy. Of course, the methods he proposed back then made Vahlen literally lose control of herself. A deed nobody before or since have achieved.  
\- All squads, Central here, enemies have entered the perimeter - Bradford's voice interrupted his flashbacks from the past - this is propably the last group. Get rid of them and get back home. Good luck. Central out.

\- Vuko, get over here!  
\- Sir! - tall man hit the ground next to Cerny's position. Lieutant looked at him, trying to read emotions off his face. Without results. Serbian was real master when it came to having imperturbable face. He could easily compete with Zhang - flashed through Cerny's mind.  
\- I need you to... well... you know - Cerny tapped twice his head - mess in it's head, at least for a short while. Maybe less.  
\- Understood, sir - Tpmirov's face was like carved in stone - permission to get to the position, sir? - he looked at his superior.  
Cerny quickly scanned his surroundings. His squad took the position along the barn, and southern wall of the house. Despite lack of significant pieces of cover Stike Four literally dissapeared out of sight.  
\- Go.  
Cerny looked at the open space in the same exact moment, when first muton crossed into the light of burning house. Lieutant rised his rifle and aimed at the muton.  
Unlucky bastards, he thought.

\- Shhh, dievushka, shhhhh... - Maria tried to calm down the frightened girl - it's okay, come here, I won't hurt you.  
\- Where's mommy? - cried the girl.  
\- She is outside, I'll take you to her, come - said Volkovya. Smoke started to gather at dangerous pace.  
\- I want mommy! Mommy, where... - strong cough interrupted girl's screams.  
\- CONTACT! - somebody yelled through coms and in the same second plasma started to hiss outside of the house.  
\- I don't have time, you stupid brat - angrily said Volkovya and focused her mind.  
The girl looked in scary woman's eyes. They were purple.  
Then there was darkness.

Unlucky bastards, thought van Doorn, gunning down a sectoid scrambling for cover. A wall of laser and plasma wiped half of the aliens with ease, but the other half hid behind uneven ground and responded with fire. What's worse, first of the mechtoids came dangerously close to Strike One operatives' positions and started to lay waste with his massive plasma cannons. Van Doorn tired to aim at mech's leg servos, a weak point, but the thing was constantly in move, and, despite it's significant size and mass, it moved suprisingly fast, hiding behind uneven ground, breaking line of sight to emerge on the other side of the field. Van Doorn emptied the magazine in machine withouth any visible result and curled behind cover in seach of another elerium cell. Wave of plasma melted the barrel next to him.

Cerny felt despair as he saw the second mechtoid to stop in the middle of the field and lay fire on Strike Four positions. He aimed at small sectoid's head popping out of the mechanized suit and pulled trigger. Plasma bolt left the barrel with hiss and flew straight at the mechtoid. It would be a perfect hit... if it actually hit. Instead plasma stopped mid-air few inches in front of machine then dispersed in violet glow. From behind his cover Cerny called out squads' marksman.  
\- Heinz, find me that merger, on the double!

\- Guten tag, you stupid fuck - sectoid's head appeared in sniper's his scope. It was easy to spot mind-mergers, since their head had this violet glow around. Often they kept behind the squad, and were virtually defensless. According to Vahlen Sectoid when mindmerging was focusing almost all of it's brain power to "pass" in onto merged target, so alien couldn't fire accurately or move quickly.  
\- Say auf wiedersehen to your friends - whispered Schneider and pulled trigger.

There is a joke in military circles about snipers. It goes this way: What does sniper feel, when he pulls the trigger? Recoil.  
This case was an exception. Laser weapons don't give recoil, since light has no mass to cause any, and since there's no recoil, shooter can see effect of his hit, since rifle's scope does not move.  
Pulse rifle howled as it consumed entire elerium cell to generate enough power to create laser beam powerful and focused enough to not to disperse on long range. Then it divided energy stored to almost 20 milion parts and unleased them in one second, one after another. One pulse ray wouldn't cause much damage, 100 could make you burn, 1000 could easily heat water. But effect of 20 milion rays in one second affected not only target, but even air around him.  
Sectoid's head exploded like a baloon. However there was no blood, since it vaporized in the same moment the air in place of alien's head ignited due to extreme temperatures, consuming whatever was left of small, grey creature's head.  
\- Got him! - Schneider said to coms.

Cerny observed, how Tpmirov launches mental assault on the stunned mechtoid. Some of psi troops loved scenic gestures while using their psionic abilities. They waved hands, said some words, some of them scream. Tpmirov was an exception. Before Cerny realised, it was over. Mechtoid started to vibrate, and suddenly opened blind fire at his former friends. Wave after wave, massive plasma bursts consumed one of the mutons who took position close to Misi's position. Sergant Saadi Misi quickly leaned out of her cover and tossed chem grenade at mechtoid. Loud "poof" later machine's armour started to boil and melt, spewing dark-green vapors all around.  
\- Fire, fire, fire! - yelled Cerny as his squad opened fire at the walker. Normaly it would take a lot of focused fire to even dent it's armour, but acid developed by Engineering Department was so corrosive it literally ate through the outer, hardest alloy plating, revealing mechtoid's internal systems, and pilot's body.  
After intense two seconds Stike Four could observe with satisfaction, how one of the most despised and grotesque alien warmachines hits the ground.

The first mechtoid was a much more a nuisance. Van Doorn started to think it was propably the worst mechtoid XCOM have ever encountered, the Mechtoid from Hell. It just kept moving, not allowing his men to lay precise fire, or even disable it for a short while.  
\- Fuck you! You verdammten hurensohn! - despite raging battle and screams of the weapons van Doorn could hear Scharf cursing in mechtoid's direction. He smiled briefly, thinking how annoying this mech must be for Strike One's designated anti-tank trooper. Scharf was known for his fierce temperament and sometimes exteme bravado, and he always bragged how he could 1v1 a sectopod. Also, he cursed like a drunk sailor.  
\- I will fuck your rotting corpse, you Stück Scheiße! - as to prove he is a man of his word Scharf flooded mechtoid with massive pulse fire.  
Van Doorn quickly looked around the battlefield. Apparently all enemies have been killed, and lone mechtoid was last alien to deal with.  
A very difficult alien to deal with.

Volkovya put the girl gently on the grass away from the burning house. She was propably six, maybe seven years old. She felt strangely dizzy, after she knocked that girl unconscious using her mental abilities.  
\- My head... - whispered to herself as she fell to her knees. The girl... she had to have massive psi potential, since she passively almost knocked down experienced XCOM psionic. Maria felt as if her head would melt down.  
\- I need... to... sit... - she sighed to herself. He almost fell down like a rag-doll. Her pulse rifle slipped out of her hands.  
\- Stike... One... Seven... to... Central... Help me... - she whispered as world before her eyes went black.

Corporal Dave Sanders tried to take aim at rouge mechtoid. He had to hit with the first shot, since Gauss Long Rifle took a while to reload both bullet and change power cells. So far the results were worse then bad. The thing kept moving, blocking line of sight with terrain. Also, to kill that thing he had to hit the weak spot in frontal armour. Common mistake made by both rookies and veterans was to shoot at sectoid head. As proven many times, hitting that small object from a distance isn't that easy, even with all this fancy gear, and what's even more frightening, Mechtoids could still fight without sectoid' head. Pretty grotesque sight, yet still common to see. Apparently suit had it's own computer, which could take control if pilot would die. What's worse, the computer would make the suit charge suicidally at operatives' positions or enter blind-firing berserk, instead of supporting squad with it's firepower. When they first encountered this phenomenon, Vahlen went nuts and kept running around and talking about how incredible this machine must be and how it will progress science. For a week. Even Shen had enough at some point.  
Suddenly Mechtoid stopped in the middle of the field.

\- I finally got you, you... - van Doorn couldn't hear the rest of Scharf's deifnitely expanded epithets describing the machine, since both Strike One and Strike Four flooded mechtoid with thunderous firestorm. Apparently Scharf's fire finally reached it's targed, as one of leg-servos of alien machine suddenly exploded in cascade of sparks and characteristic violet plating.

The mechtoid's stumble was exactly the thing Sandes has been waiting for. The mech's weakspot was, ironnicaly, in the middle of it's chestplate. Here all vital organs and hardware was connected to the powerful elerium reactor. Also Gunlink provided corporal's brain with entire report of potential damage caused by a hit there. And it was enough for him.  
In less then a second Dave Sanders aimed at this point and pulled trigger.

The difference between gauss weapons and energy weapons, like laser or plasma, can be easily described with one word: bullet.  
While plasma and laser weapons use either superheated gas or pure concetraded light, the gauss rilfe shoots, similiar to ballistic counterpart, a projectile which hits the target and destroys it with it's mass and speed combined. Exept gauss weapons are many times more superior in both of these fields.  
Instead using black powder as an ignitor, gauss rifle uses electromagnets in it's barrel to speed up bullet. Since these magnets consume tremendous amounts of energy, developing such gun was extemely impractical before developing and using elerium cells. But since single cell could generate easily gigawatts of energy, the problem was solved easily by R&D departments. In pararell to developing standard infantry gauss rilfe, Engineering also decided to create experimental one-shot-reload weapon. Because they could use all that power to power up only one projectile, they decided to put as many electromagnets as they could fit in the barrel of the rifle to increase projectile's speed to maximum. And, believe me, there are a lot of these magnets inside.  
The bullet was other problem, but aliens solved it aswell by introducing alloys. Due to their incredible durability and extreme possibilites to modify their properties, engineers soon came up with extremely dense alloy to use as a projectile for the weapon. The "bullet" was almost 15 centimeters long, and had 30 milimeter in diameter. It was more like a huge crossbow's bolt then a bullet.  
Of course all weapon's parameters had to be toned down a little, for instance bullet's speed. In very first versions projectiles reached speeds so insane they lit air on fire due to ridiculous amounts of heat created by air friction. As war prolonged, R&D experience grew. Gauss weapons became lighter, more precise and much more handy. Vahlen called these weapons Electromagnetic Rail Weapons, but operatives quickly nicknamed entire category "gauss weapons". As you may imagine, Vahlen called them "ignorants and troglodites" for using such "immature sci-fi term" for these "marvels of scientific progress".

Electromagnets hummed as the bullet left rifle's barrel. It reached almost 11 machs in less then a fraction of second before it hit the target. Despite rifle's theoretical range being about 80 kilometers, it was as effective on 500 meters as it would be on any distance. In the exactly same moment when tip of the bullet touched mechtoid's armor all this speed and mass turned into energy. Only a few percent of the bullet actually bursted through the mech's armored plate, while the rest of it melted in extreme temperatures caused by friciton between mechtoid's armour and alloys the bullet was made of. The superheated melted dense metal literally flew through mechtoid's armor like hot knife though the butter, melting everything on it's way, alloy or not. Of course elerium reactor powering the machine couldn't withstand pressure and temperature this high, so elerium started chain reaction similiar to uranium in nuclear bomb. Thankfully, elerium was much less violent and much more stable then uranium or plutonium. Yet still it could unleash tremendous amounts of energy, and it did. When the shockwave of liquid metal and exploding elerium reached the end of it's destructive journey through alien warmachine, it blew massive hole outside in the back.  
But all that energy have been dispersing in all directions, and mechtoid's construction was first to take it. Machine literaly exploded from the inside igniting air around it, and kicking massive cloud of dust that followed the fireball.  
When the dust settled only what was left of the machine were legs and melting bottom part of chestplate. The rest of the mechtoid was never to be found.

\- What the hell was that? - said van Doorn long while later, raising up from the ground. The shockwave of expanding air threw almost all of Stike One on the ground.  
\- Uhhh... I guess it was Sanders, sir - corporal Yersimov appeared next to him and helped to gather van Doorn's equipment scattered around.  
\- Jesus Christ, Lord and Savior - General's eyes rested on the patheric remains of the what used to be mechtoid - I''ve been serving for four years, but I have never seen mechtoid to just...  
\- Explode, sir? - Yersimov finished.  
\- Disappear? - Cerny appeared behind them suddenly - the GLR was made to crack much thicker armour, Peter. Mechtoids are just like paper to it - His face was covered in soot and dirt, but he was smiling. In hand he held his favourite pipe.  
\- That's all of them, right? Sir? - corporal looked around the wasteland. Alien remains were scattered all around the field, mixed with burned grass and small pools of glassified earth, marking places where plasma bursts melted sand and earth.  
\- Yes, son - van Doorn laid hand on Yersimov's shoulder - good job there, corporal.

-  
-Central, Strike One-One here. It's all over now. I repeat, it's all over.  
Applause rang out in Delta Section, as people gathered there congratulated themselves. Another succesful operation proved XCOM to be the best, again.  
\- Good job, people - Bradford shook hands as he was moving though the cheering staff. Commander's face showed grim satisfaction, as he nodded Bradford. But the mission wasn't over.  
\- Allright people, calm down. I need sitrep.

Van Doorn and Cerny strolled to mechtoid's remains growing cold. With a theatrical gesture Cerny lighted his pipe from charred part of mech. He took inhaled for a while looking as Strike Four members came close to look at the mechtoid's servos. Atmosphere was much more relaxed, now, when they knew it's all over. They joked about Sanders' shot and teased each other.  
Van Doorn smiled and said:  
\- Stike One, report  
\- Strike One-Two, report  
\- Strike One-Three, report  
\- Strike One-Four, sorry about that shot, sir - that was Sanders  
\- Strike One-Five, report  
\- Strike One-Six, everything's great here, herr major.  
Silence.  
\- Strike One-Seven, copy? - Van Doorn's suddenly felt cold grasp embracing his stomach.  
\- Strike One-Seven, answer me. Volkovya? Maria?  
\- Van Doorn to the squad, find Volkovya. MOVE!

Just before the dawn Skyranger lifted heavily off the ground and headed south. Soon two  
F-22 of US Air Force joined it as an escort. Big Sky flew them home. Luckily, all of them. This time bad luck avoided XCOM operatives, and some of them thanked the heavens for this.  
Van Doorn looked at sergant Volkovya laying on the stretcher. Despite perfect health condition she was unconscious, and Central assured him that she's completely fine, only in shallow coma. He leaned on his chair in the Skyranger and closed eyes. It was a hard night... Shame we couldn't save this family.  
Van Doorn opened eyes. The girl. We didn't find her. Cleaning crew didn't find her.

The girl moved through the forest. She wasn't crying, although one could think so. Her face was dirty, and her pajama was in shreds. Yet she kept moving, as if an invisible force pushed her, bare foot through the darkness and cold of the Quebec's forest. But she didn't feel the cold. She did not feel anything.

Just before the down she reached the clearing. In the middle of it stood a tall figure, flooded in orange light of rising sun. She couldn't see it's face, as it was turned back to her. As she came closer, she could see more details. The creature was much taller then daddy, and much slimmer then mommy. Red cloak covered was covering it almost completely, and it seemed to hide it's arms beneath it.  
\- Who are you, mister? - girl asked tall figure. She couldn't resist getting closer, as if some force was pulling her... closer and closer. And with each step her fear grew.  
The red-wearing creature turned around and remove his hands from under the cloak. All four hands. They were very thin, covered with black skin dried so much it resembled parchment. Purple sparks danced and bathed them in dim glow. The creature had no face, only black void gazed ath the girl from behind it's silver helmet. It's voice rang loudly in girl's mind as creature drew one of the hands in the girl's direction.

I AM YOUR FUTURE, ANNETTE.


End file.
